


Those who hunt at night

by Pastel_dreamer



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Confusion, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Knife Throwing, Knives, Lance thinks all vampires are evil, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slow Burn, Vampire Keith (Voltron), Vampire Shiro (Voltron), Vampires, Violence, brief nudity but not sexual, dead animal, i will update tags with each new chapter, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2019-08-28 05:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16717555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_dreamer/pseuds/Pastel_dreamer
Summary: Living in the small village of Dero, Lance grew up listening to the horrid tales of vampires. Merciless, bloodthirsty creatures that came out at night and killed for sport. They were said to be creatures so horrible that to even see one was a death sentence.When Lance gets lost and finds himself trapped in a castle along with two vampires with secrets to hide, what will he learn? Who can really be trusted?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my newest and one of my longest fanfictions yet! I love vampire AU’s so I thought I might give it a shot. 
> 
> Just for some context, in this story, Marco and Luis are 8 and 10 and Veronica is 22. Lance is 18.

 The smell of rain tainted the fall air.

Leaves of gold, red, and yellow fell like snow around Lance as he walked along the thin dirt path and watched his two younger siblings Marco and Luis play tag between the tall trees of the Vara forest. He smiled as the boys yelled, chasing each other around the trunks and through the bushes. Marco stopped and scooped up a big handful of leaves, turning on his heel and throwing them right into the face of Luis.

“Hey, not fair!” Luis shouted, but Marco had taken off again, giggling at the look on his face.

Lance laughed, earning a hard stare from Luis.“There’s plenty of leaves on the ground, go get him back,” Lance said, gesturing around with a wave of his hand. Luis grinned, grabbing his own leaves and chasing after Marco with a shout.

Today Lance’s mother and his eldest sister Veronica were drying this year's harvest of herbs in preparation for winter and banned all children from the house so they could concentrate. Since Lance was eighteen that automatically left him in charge of Marco and Luis for the day. He didn't mind though, he liked any reason to get out of the house away from work and chores. 

The three boys were on their way back to their village after a full day spent hiking and looking for mushrooms to sell to traders and other villagers. They had started in the morning right after the sun rose with an empty satchel and three sandwiches for lunch. They spent the day climbing up and down hills and crawling around in the dirt to try and find the rarer mushrooms that preferred the dark and moist environment at the base of trees. The results of their search now sat tucked safely in a small leather satchel slung over Lance’s shoulder.

Lance, his three siblings, and his mother lived in the small village of Dero, a cozy town nestled deep in the mountains and home to about 700 people. Dero was surrounded for miles by the ancient forest of Vara, filled with some of the oldest trees in the land, whos trucks stretched into the sky like giant brown pillars and showered leaves down from hundreds of feet above. Since Dero was so far into the mountains, it was about two weeks away by horse from any other town and unfortunately, didn’t receive too many visitors. Many traders and travelers held the belief that magic lurked in the heart of the ancient forest, and refused to travel there due to strange and magic creatures that were rumored to roam the night. Vampires that killed for blood and wolves as big as a man, it took a brave soul to come to Dero.

Lance didn’t blame them for being scared, everyone in town believed in the supernatural, Lance included. Wreaths of garlic and wooden crosses could be seen hung from almost every door and no one but the very bold and the very drunk dared to wander outside when the sun fell. So only once every other month different traders would up to town offering to sell them the things they couldn’t grow or make themselves. flour, leather, and pretty glass jars that sparkled in the sun.

Lance peered up through the trees, frowning at the dark clouds slowly rolling in and blotting out the pale blue sky. The wind was picking up as well, sharp and cold against his face and fingers. He pulled his thin jacket tighter around him, frowning. Usually, the sun didn't set for another hour or so, but he had a bad feeling about the weather.

“It’s getting dark, time to go back home!” He called out to the two, who were currently playing another game of tag. Lance could only imagine the anger if all three of them came home covered in mud and rain.

Not to mention the vampires.

Stories about vampires that his mama used to tell him to keep him from running out after dark suddenly became real when Lance turned ten. A man named Adam went missing from Dero. He was young and friendly, about twenty-four. He was one of the apprentice healers and spent his days in the woods studying herbs and flowers for medicine. One day, he went into the Vara woods with his pack and journal, and just never came out. After a few days, search parties were organized but it was no use. It was like he disappeared off the face of the Earth. Flyers were sent out by his family, featuring a rough sketch of his face and asking for someone to come and find him before something bad happened.

Three weeks later Lotor showed up. Tall, mysterious, and handsome with piercing eyes and long white hair, he looked like a hero straight from a storybook. Instantly he won the villagers hearts with his charming personality and quick wit. He claimed he knew where Adam might be, and had an old map that said there was a place deep in the woods where vampires dwelled. Adam could have been taken, and if that was the case, he might still be alive. Filled with a new hope the villagers begged Lotor to go find him, to bring him home safely. For a (frankly outrageous) price, Lotor would go. Lance remembered his mama getting almost half of the money from their savings jar to give towards Adam’s family to pay the bill. All the villagers pooled their money, and he was officially hired. He was sent off with cheers and feasts and for three nights fires would light up the town square to welcome him and Adam when they returned.

Lotor brought back the body one week later in a black bag.

Adam’s family were the first screams that were heard from their house.

Lance’s mama had cried that night; and told all four children to stay inside and to line the window seals with garlic.

When everyone had gone to sleep, Young Lance was driven by curiosity. He wanted to know what happened, why his mama told him to line the sills with garlic. Checking to see if all his siblings were asleep he snuck his way out through his window and made his way over to the house where Adam’s family lived. He carefully peeked into the window that looked into the main room. Yellow candlelight illuminated the living room with an eerie glow. Lotor sat off to the corner, cleaning some knife while two women in blood splattered aprons prepared Adam’s body for burial on a low table.

Lance could never forget the sight.

Adam’s naked body was almost mangled beyond recognition, with stab wounds and a wooden stake buried in his heart. His skin was pale, and sharp teeth glittered in the shallow light. He couldn't process what happened, it looked like he was a vampire. Lance felt sick, and he rushed home, sneaking back into the house and throwing up onto the floor. Awoken by the sound his mother came down and blamed it on a sickness. Lance never told anyone what he saw that night, but it stayed with him, and from that night on he never forgot to line his windowsill with garlic.

Lotor made a town announcement the next day to tell what happened to Adam. He had been turned, Lotor said, had gone completely wild, trying to kill him and drink his blood to gain power. There was nothing he could do, and after hours of trying to get him back, he had no choice but to kill him. He warned that the vampires might try to take another, and out of fear the town of Dero begged him to stay, to keep the vampires away. From then on Lotor was the official vampire hunter of Dero. He took up residence in an old cabin right on the edge of town and mostly kept to himself. Even now sometimes travelers would ask him to take care of odd supernatural work, which he was happy to do for the right price.

 

Thunder rolled overhead and rain started to patter down. Lance sighed, resigning himself to his mother's wrath as screams of joy echoed ahead. He smiled a little, watching Luis splash around in the puddles with Marco. They were having fun, who cares about a little scolding. He was worried about getting back in time though, it was moving quick, and while the boys didn’t seem to notice the rapidly increasing rate the rain was falling, he sure did.

He picked up his pace. “Come on boys. Let’s hurry home.” He raised his voice over the rain and overhead thunder boomed. The two looked nervous now and nodded quickly, their tag game abandoned.

“Remember to look for the special trees,” Lance said. The ‘special trees’ were trees with an X and a number carved into the bark, and it marked the way to get home. When the number on the tree was multiplied by 5, that would tell you how many minutes it took to walk home. It was a system Lance and his friend Hunk came up with as children to avoid getting lost and was now used by everyone in the village. Lance would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud.

“We know Lance we aren't five anymore.” Marco said, “We can follow the trees.”

“Just saying, mama's going to be mad you both are all wet.”

“Let’s have a race!” Shouted Luis,

Lance shook his head “Not today, we should stick together in the rain-” But his words were lost as they took off, laughing before Lance could even finish his sentence.

“Lance you better keep up! I’m going to beat you,” Marco taunted over his shoulder, his voice barely heard over the rush of rain.

“Wait!!” Lance called, but the wind carried his voice away. The sun was gone now, hidden behind black clouds and casting everything in a deep blue shadow. Rain pelted down around him and his brothers became faint outlines through the water and trees. He cursed and started after them, his hand tight around his satchel to keep it from bumping against his side. It felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water on him, and he was thoroughly soaked head to toe. Hair clung to his face and he flicked it out of the way, keeping his eyes locked on the figures in front of him.

“Marco, Luis, slow down! Be careful,” He called after them, but they couldn’t hear him. The sounds of their laughter could be heard farther and farther away.

Rain poured and poured down, lightning flashing in the sky. Oh, they were in for some serious shit. He passed a tree with the characters X5 carved into it. That meant they had around 25 minutes before they got out of the woods, but if they were running, it could be shortened to fifteen. He ran faster, determined not to lose the two boys.  
Something connected to his foot. With a short shout, Lance tripped over a fallen tree branch, losing his footing on the wet ground and falling face-first into the mud.

“Yuck, are you kidding me?” He said with a groan, flicking mud out of his eyes. His mother would kill him now, he knew it. He scrambled up, mud now covering his front, clinging to his clothes and made them feel heavy. It was cold, and he shivered. Where were the kids? He looked around frantically. “Marco, Luis, Where are you!”

Nothing but the rain and snap of the wind answered.

"Shit, this is bad." He muttered to himself. It was dark now, ominous black clouds blocking out any light.

He whipped around, trying to find a marked tree. The trees would lead him home, they always did. The rain clouded his vision and he found a vague outline of a tree that looked somewhat familiar. It wasn’t marked, but maybe there was one nearby. He took off running in that direction, trying to push back the panic and fear that clouded his mind.

His teeth clattered together from the cold and he shoved his hands under his arms, hoping to put some feeling back into them. No marked tree, no marked tree, Lance couldn’t even find the game trail they were following. He kept running.

“Macro, Luis!” He yelled out names until his throat hurt. It must have been fifteen minutes, surely he would be close to the town now? The cold felt seeped into his bones and he ran till his lungs begged for air. Rain poured down around him in buckets, spilling into his eyes and mouth until it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He slipped again, falling to his hands and knees in the mud. He gasped for air, the taste of salt mixed with the water in his mouth and he slapped his hands against the ground with a frustrated shout. He looked around, squinting in the rain. He had to face it, he had no idea where he was or even if he was going in the right direction. Thunder boomed and lightning flashed, lighting up the trees around him. No marks.

“Come on Lance, you have to get out of here.” He said to himself. Determined and a little scared, he climbed up and took off again, stumbling as he tried to see through the dark. Lighting arched overhead again and for the briefest of moments, Lance thought he saw a figure standing in the distance in front of him.

“Hey! Marco? Luis?” But just as soon as it had appeared, the figure was gone again.

' _I must be seeing things_ ' Lance thought, and forged ahead, calling even louder. His face burned from the cold and he vaguely realized he couldn't feel his hands or feet anymore. This was bad. His mother always warned him about staying outside for too long in cold weather like this.

A black flash appeared at the corner of his vision again and he stumbled towards it, slurring his words as he called for his siblings. ‘ _They had to be close_ ’ he thought, he must have gotten closer by now.  
  
The world tipped sharply and Lance fell, landing in the mud. He coughed, shivering against the ground as he struggled to get up. His legs and arms felt like brinks and he couldn't think straight, his thoughts sliding around like ice.

Who was he even looking for? His siblings, he remembered. He lost them when he tripped.

He had to find them.

His eyelids felt so heavy and though it was surely starting to get colder this time of night, Lance didn’t feel so cold anymore.

He had to get out of here, a part of his brain said, alarms going off in his head. He could freeze. But the other part told him it would be alright. Just a quick rest then he could continue to look. Chances are he was close to the village, they could find him. For now, he would just rest. He brought his knees up to his chest, curling up on the ground to try and preserve heat. The sound of rain and wind almost sounded comforting now as his eyelids grew heavy. Somewhere in the back of his mind he vaguely hoped Marco and Luis were safe.

But it didn’t matter now.

He was far too cold to care.

He closed his eyes and drifted off, welcoming the warm darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the time I almost got lost outside in a thunderstorm during a tornado warning lol. I’ll update the tags with each new chapter and try to update as soon as I can, hopefully in the next couple of weeks :)
> 
> Also shoutout to any person that can figure out how I choose my names for the village and the forest!  
> I absolutely adore any comments or constructive criticism! Don’t be afraid to leave a comment if you liked it or maybe thought there are some things I can improve on. Thank you!! :)


	2. Chapter two

He was warm.

Small things began to filter into Lance’s conscious one at a time; the crackling of a fire, the scratch of a blanket against his face, the distant howl of wind outside. Lance smiled drowsily, maybe he was home. His body felt sore all over and his throat burned like he had swallowed fire. He reached up to rub the sleep out of his eyes but stopped with a start.

He wasn’t wearing clothes.

His eyes snapped open, a deep flush spreading across his face as he quickly pulled the thick blankets up closer around him, eyes darting around in a dazed confusion.

This wasn't home.

He was in a living room of sorts, but it was far grander than any room Lance had ever seen in his life. He sat on a small mattress pulled close to a marble fireplace where a large fire roared. Soft velvet chairs and couches spotted the room, and old oil paintings adorned the stone walls, mostly depicting solum looking people dressed in extravagant gowns and suits.

“What the-” Lance whispered, panic slowly setting in. If he wasn’t in the village, where exactly was he?

“Hello.” A voice said.

Lance nearly fell off the mattress with a startled shout.

A young man sat in a chair off to the side in the shadows, looking at Lance with an amused expression.

Lance couldn’t help but stare. He looked to be about nineteen and had some sort of ethereal beauty about him, something Lance couldn’t place. It was as if he was cut from marble, with smooth, pale skin and a sharp nose and chin. His black hair was hastily cut and longer than most boys in Lance’s village, the back of it going down to the base of his neck. His clothes were simple, just a black shirt and pants, but there was one thing about him that held Lance’s attention.

His eyes.

His eyes were the deepest purple Lance had ever seen, with hues that seemed to glow and swirl in the dim light of the fire, entrancing him. They looked so much older than the young man before him. It gave Lance an uneasy feeling. Whatever this guy was, it wasn’t human.

Even with the thick blankets around him, Lance suddenly felt very, very exposed. He pulled up the covers tighter around him, scooting backward as much as he could on the small mattress.

“W-Who are you? Where am I?” Lance said, finally finding his voice.

The man gazed at him for a moment longer, as if considering whether or not to answer.

“My name is Keith.” His voice was smooth and cold, like a frosted lake on a winter day. He didn’t offer an answer to Lance’s second question.

He seemed to be watching Lance, his eyes gazing over every inch of him like he hadn't seen another person in years. Frankly, it freaked Lance out.

Keith stood up silently, “There’s a change of clothes you can have, your old ones were destroyed when we saved you.” He pointed across the room to a chair with a neat stack of clothes folded on it.

“My clothes were what?” Lance asked, his throat protesting as it burned. That was his only jacket.

Keith ignored him. “Stay here and rest until Shiro comes back, he can answer your questions better.” With that he turned on his heel and left the room, shutting the doors behind him without so much as a second glance at Lance.

Lance stared open-mouthed at the doors, processing what just happened.

“Like Hell I'm waiting around,” He muttered. He had no idea where he was, and his mama had told him plenty of stories warning about vampires that took advantage of lost travelers. He had to get out of here. Pulling up the blankets around him he padded over to the chair, shivering at the stone floor against his feet. He threw glances at the door to make sure Keith didn’t come back as he quickly pulled on the new clothes. The clothes were simple and fit him surprisingly well, just a white long-sleeve shirt and brown pants that ended right below his ankle. He found his shoes and satchel drying by the fire, still damp but Lance didn’t care. At least they didn't feel the need to destroy them too.

He cracked open the double doors, peeking out.

The doors lead out to the side of a grand entrance hall, something that looked right out of a story. Ceilings arched upward and the walls were decorated with tapestries and candle sconces where candles flickered. Gusts of wind rattled huge glass windows covered by heavy black drapes. Grand double doors stood to the left of Lance and to the right a large double staircase led up to the second floor. The place had an abandoned beauty about it; The staircase was worn with chipped steps, the chandelier hung with spider webs and everything was covered with a thin layer of dust.

He slid out of the room, closing the door with a soft click. The hall looked empty, but he didn’t know where that weird kid went. He didn’t really care to find out either. He needed to find a way out of here and make sure his brothers were safe. Mama would never forgive him if something happened to them. He looked around, eyes landing on another set of doors on the opposite side of the room.

 _‘Maybe they have a map or a compass I can use’_ Lance thought. It was a vague hope, but better than nothing. With one more glance around he quickly made his way to a door on the opposite side of the room, tugging at the handle.

“I thought I told you to stay put.”

Lance jumped at the noise, whipping around to see Keith leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Is it your hobby to randomly appear out of nowhere or just something you do naturally?” Lance asked, trying to keep his voice steady though his heart raced.

“What are you doing?” Keith said, again ignoring Lance’s question.

"I’m just looking around, checking the place out.” Lance lied, “Why do you live way out here anyway? Doesn't it get lonely?”

Keith raised one eyebrow in skepticism. “It’s none of your business.”

Lance sighed, this whole cryptic act was getting annoying. “Can you at least tell me how I got here? Or is that a secret too?”

Keith fixed Lance with a hard stare, standing up straight. “My brother found you two hours away from your village, passed out in some mud puddle and barely breathing. He guessed ten more minutes and you would have died. So he brought you back here. Why he decided to bring you back here I have no idea, as it seemed like a stupid idea to me.”

Lance ignored the last part, frowning. “Why didn’t he take me back to my village? How did he find me?”

Keith seemed to hesitate when replying, “He couldn’t take you back.”

“What do you mean he couldn’t?” Lance asked, but their conversation was cut short as the front door was thrown open with a bang. Lance gasped and stumbled back as candles flickered and a cold wind blew through the castle. Someone stumbled in, his face hidden by the hood of a thick cloak. In his arms, he held the dead body of a deer. The man dropped the deer down, reaching up and flipping his hood back. Keith shut the door and started to talk to the other in a low tone.

The man was taller and looked older than Keith with broad shoulders and a more muscular frame. His hair had specks of white in it and a jagged pink scar spanned the width of his face right below his eyes. His eyes glowed the same way as Keith's, but instead of different shades of purple, they were a dark grey. He turned and noticed Lance, “Oh hello, I’m glad you're awake.” He smiled and held out his hand, “My name is Shiro.”

Lance hesitantly shook his hand, it was as cold as death. “Lance,” he replied.

“Nice to meet you, Lance.” Shiro said kindly, “I imagine your rather confused right now, let's go talk in the kitchen.” Shiro picked up the deer again but Lance hesitated.

“I’m sorry but I should go soon, my family is probably worried about me and I don't know what happened to my brothers. Do you have a map I could borrow? Or just point me in the right direction and I’ll be on my way.”

“It’s pitch black outside and freezing.” Keith said, “You won't make it five steps.”

“I have to get back,” Lance said. “My brothers could be dead.”

"I’m sorry Lance, but Keith is right.” Shiro said, “It’s a day’s walk back to your village, and it’s far too cold. Stay with us and you can leave in the morning.” He nodded towards Keith and walked off to a small door tucked away near the stairs.

Lance glanced longingly behind him at the doors. he could leave and try to get back, but the two were right, he wouldn’t make it far. Hesitantly he followed them, feeling like he was walking right into danger. He entered the kitchen, surprised by how large it was. A wooden counter stretched the length of the room and old cupboards and broken stoves lined the walls. Keith sat up on the counter edge and Shiro set the deer down on the counter, going around collecting small knives and a cup. He gestured towards a wooden table with two chairs against the wall. “Take a seat.”

Lance nervously sat down, never taking his eyes off the two.

“I’m sorry we don’t have a lot in the way of food right now, we don’t eat too much,” Shiro said, setting a glass of water in front of Lance. Lance eyed it suspiciously before taking a small drink, ignoring the way Keith rolled his eyes. It felt cool against his throat, and he sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Shiro said, now gathering small bottles and arranging them on the counter. “You must be from Dero correct?”

“Yes,” He said, watching with cautious interest. Keith continued to glare daggers at Lance but didn't say anything.

"I see." 

The room went silent until Lance felt like it was suffocating him, the only sound coming from the click of bottles. 

“Are you vampires?” He blurted, desperately hoping he was wrong. The lack of food, the old castle, their eyes; it wasn’t making sense. He regretted his words immediately, but it was too late to take them back. Shiro froze, hands hovering over a bottle. Beside him Keith's body stiffened, his hands tightening into loose fists. Lance almost preferred the silence now. 

Shiro sighed, turning to face Lance. “I guess there's no use lying. Yes, we are vampires. But we don’t want to hurt you.”

Cold fear clenched Lance's heart. It was true, he knew it. Tales of vampires killing and torturing humans came flooding into his mind and he stumbled up, his hands shaking.

“I need to go now, thank you for your help.” He began to walk out but Keith got to the door first, standing against it and blocking the way out.

Lance stepped back, panic shining in his eyes. “Let me out. I can find my way home. I won't tell anyone you're here.”

“Lance, let us explain,” Shiro said, concern in his voice. “As I said, we don’t want to hurt you.”

“Don’t you think if we wanted you dead we would have just left you outside?” Keith said, still not moving from in front of the door. “We wanted to help.”

“You could want my blood or something. I know vampires try and trick people all the time.”

“You paranoid Dero freaks are all the same aren't you,” Keith scoffed, his voice ice cold and full of venom. His hands tightened by his side. “If we wanted to harm you, we would have done it by now.”

“Keith that’s enough,” Shiro warned, “He doesn’t know better.” He turned to Lance, “Lance please sit down and let us explain.”

Lance desperately looked between the door and Shiro, he didn’t know what to do, nothing was making sense. Every instinct was screaming at him to try and make a run for it, but he knew deep inside he wouldn’t make it back to Dero. He would get lost again or caught, and this time no one would save him. His best hope was to wait for sunrise and get a map.

He slowly walked back over to the table and sat perched on the edge of the chair, his heart hammering in his chest. “Why did you save me?” Lance asked, barely keeping his voice from shaking.

“As much as you probably believe, we’re not all awful creatures who kill for fun.’” Keith said, resuming his place on the counter.

“We helped you because we wanted too.” Shiro said, “It was the right thing to do.”

Lance’s eyebrows furrowed. Vampires were supposed to be evil. They just didn’t do the ‘right’ thing. Ever. At least not in the stories. But Lance was starting to have his doubts. 

“How did you even find me?”

“I was out hunting when I heard you calling for your brothers. I arrived just in time to see you collapse. I brought you back here as fast as I could, but I was worried you weren't going to make it.” Shiro said, he cut the deer and started to fill the bottles with blood and line them up neatly on the counter. Lance suddenly found the ground a lot more interesting.

“I’m sorry about your clothes by the way,” Shiro continued, “We had to cut them off because they were wet, I hope those ones fit alright.”

“Yeah, they fit fine,” Lance said, a little surprised, “thank you.”

Shiro smiled a little, “Good. I’ll draw up a map tomorrow for you to find your way back.” He paused in his work, looking Lance in the eyes, his tone now serious. “I only ask that you tell not a single soul what happened. Tell them you found a cave and spent the night there till the storm passed. You have to promise.” His eyes glowed more brightly in the dim room, the colors swirling faster inside.

Lance nodded, his throat dry. “I promise. No one will know what happened.” Shiro _had_ saved his life and was letting him go, it was the least he could do.

“How can we trust him?” Keith asked, “He just said he's from  _Dero_ remember? Evil cult Dero?”

“I am more than aware Keith,” Shiro said. “It was a risk bringing him here, one I’m hoping doesn’t end badly.” He looked pointily at Lance, who nodded nervously.

“No one will know a thing,” Lance assured, “I promise.”

“Good. Thank you, Lance.” Shiro wiped his hands off on a rag, leaving a bright red smear. “You have a long day tomorrow, I suggest you get some sleep, you can have one of the extra rooms.”

Lance could feel Keith glowering at him as Shiro lead him out of the kitchen and up one of the staircases. Out of curiosity, Lance dragged his finger along the stone banister, watching as dust collected on his finger. Keith’s comments about Dero lingered in Lance’s mind. They turned to the left at the top of the stairs and down a short hallway.

“Hey, Shiro?” Lance asked, “What did Keith mean when he was talking about Dero? We aren’t a cult.”

“It’s not important,” Shiro said, sighing. “Don’t mind Keith too much, he doesn’t trust new people too easily. He hasn’t had anyone else to talk to in the past ten years.”

Lance didn’t reply.

Shiro stopped outside a thick wooden door. “Here’s your room. If you need anything I’ll be down in the kitchen. I’ll wake you before sunrise to show you the way home. Try to get some rest till then, I imagine you're still tired from yesterday.”

Lance agreed. Now Shiro mentioned it, he was really tired. “Thank you, Shiro. For saving me.”

Shiro smiled and disappeared back down the hallway.

Lance stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. It was sparsely furnished, with just a dresser tucked next to a small bed. Two burning candles lit the room in an eerie yellow glow and moonlight streamed into a window overlooking the Vara forest.

He fell onto the bed, gazing up at the ceiling. _‘Oh, Lance Mcclain what have you gotten yourself into?_ ’ Events from today flashed through his mind like pictures in a book, crowding his head and piling upon each other. Why did Dero only depict vampires as evil? If vampires were so evil, why did Shiro help him? What was Keith’s deal with Dero?

He sighed, rolling to face the door. Reaching up he blew out the candles and eventually drifted into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Lance woke to the sun shining on his face and for a brief moment he forgot where he was, but then it all came flooding back.

Keith. The castle. The storm. Vampires.

_‘I’ll wake you before sunrise.’_

He bolted up, squinting at the bright light streaming in through the window. “Shit.”

Shiro had said he was going to wake him up before the sun rose to help guide him back. He rolled out of bed, quickly lacing up his shoes before stumbling out down to the entrance hall.

“He lied to me, why didn’t I realize,“ Lance muttered. And to think he was starting to trust him, His mama was right.

The entrance hall was dark despite the sun thanks to the thick black curtains. Shiro came in from the kitchen at the sound of Lance’s footsteps, a concerned look on his face.

“I’m sorry Lance,” Shiro said, “There’s been a problem,”

”I thought you were going to help me.”

“We can’t leave, there was a storm-”

Lance didn’t hear the rest. _A storm._ He rushed over and tried opening the front door, but it wouldn’t move. “Come on,” Lance muttered, shoving against the door with all his might. He had to get out of here, he was going to get back to his family, with or without help. But as much as Lance wished, the door barely budged. Shiro watched with a sad look in his eyes as Lance managed to get it open a crack. Lance shaded his eyes with his hand against the bright sun.

“No no no,” Lance stammered, hopelessness gripping his chest like a vice. About three feet of snow was blocking the door, making it impossible to open. Shiro came up behind him, being careful to stay in the shadows.

“There was a snow storm last night,” Shiro said, “We’re snowed in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Writes to distract myself from the fact Voltron is ending 11 days from now. :( *
> 
> Sooo Lance is definitely not a fan of vampires atm lol. I'll update the tags with each chapter and try to update soon, with finals coming up the next update will probably be in a few weeks. I'll admit I'm not the best at dialogue and transition scenes in general, so I hope I got all the characters right!  
> I absolutely adore any comments or constructive criticism! Don’t be afraid to leave a comment if you liked it, maybe thought there are some things I can improve on, or just want to cry about Voltron together. Thank you!! :)
> 
> Edit jan 7 2019  
> Someone pointed out some important mistakes so I went back through and fixed them, hopefully it doesn't bring it back up to the top or anything


	3. Chapter 3

It was snowing again.

This was the worst.

The hopelessness, the guilt, it ate Lance alive like a parasite.

After Shiro told him that the snow blocked them in, Lance had searched all over the castle, checking and then double checking all the doors he could find, but Shiro was right. There was no way out of the castle until the snow cleared. And even if they could open the door enough to get out, there was a still an eight-hour walk ahead of him.

Feeling trapped and helpless, Lance went to his bedroom and locked himself in, ignoring Shiro knocking against his door. He paced the room, hot tears beginning to streak down his face. This was spiraling out of control; he had no idea if Louis and Marco were alive, and if they were they probably thought he was dead. What kind of son was he if he couldn't even keep his brothers safe? He clenched his trembling fists against his sides.

Poor Mama and Veronica. They were probably prepping the house with the special black curtains and having expensive rituals they couldn’t afford prepared to protect his spirit. The idea filled Lance with grief. He wanted to scream, to shout that he was alive and here, but there was nothing he could do. He was useless stuck in this stupid castle, with two vampires of all the things in the world.

Just his luck.

He fell onto the bed and buried his face into his pillow, not bothering to stop the tears anymore.

Eventually, Shiro gave up trying to talk to Lance and it became quiet, the only sound coming from the gusts of wind blowing against the window.

The sun was beginning to set when Lance got up, a hollow hole now taking place of intense emotions. He couldn’t mope forever, he would have to eat eventually. He looked out the window, frowning at his distorted reflection in the glass. He looked like shit. His eyes were puffy and red, his hair spiking up in every direction. He sighed, trying to smooth down his clothes and hair but it was a lost cause. He was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

He opened the door, rubbing his eyes to get the red out of them.

Shiro stood in the doorway. His eyebrows furrowed in worry at the look of Lance. “I made you soup downstairs, I’m afraid I haven’t cooked in a while, but I found some dried herbs you could add.” He paused, and spoke carefully, “I’m sorry about the snow and your family, as soon as it clears we can help you get home.”

Lance’s throat tightened and he wrapped his arms around himself, preferring to look at the floor. “It’s not your fault. Thank you, Shiro,”

He nodded and gestured for Lance to follow him down to the kitchen. The hallways were completely dark save for a candle Shiro held, it’s small flame casting dancing shadows onto the walls. In the dim light Lance noticed Shiro’s eyes had a soft grey glow to them, and vaguely he wondered if he could see in the dark.

Shiro broke the quiet, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “Water we get from an old well in the corner of the kitchen, and I cut up the deer and stored it in the icebox. If you’re careful you can make it last three weeks. I know humans need to eat a lot more often than we do.”

_Three weeks._

The thought of staying here that long was not a happy one.

“If there is anything you need let me or Keith know, we’ll be happy to help,” Shiro said.

Lance highly doubted Keith would be happy to do anything that involved him after what happened last night, but Shiro continued, “Do you know how to cook?”

Lance nodded, “My mama taught me when I was young. She believed every man should know how to cook for themselves.” A sharp pang went through his heart at the memory of her. “She was the best teacher. Once I almost burned down the house trying to make fried potatoes when I was young. That’s when she started to teach me.” He chuckled to himself at the memory, an uncomfortable knot forming in his stomach.

Shiro smiled. “She’s smart. You can cook from now on then, you’re probably better than I am. Feel free to use whatever you can find in the kitchen.”

Looking around the dark kitchen Lance could already tell there wasn’t a lot he could use, but he didn't really have a choice. He would make it work.

Shiro set the candle down on the table and hurried off into the dark, returning with a bowl of what Lance assumed was the soup, but looked closer to dirty water.

He set it down in front of Lance and sat across from him, frowning at the bowl. “It doesn’t look like what I hoped it would, but it has been quite a while since I tried to make any human food.”

He seemed so honest, Lance didn’t want to let him down. Hesitantly he took a bite, struggling to keep his face neutral. The ‘soup’ tasted like water and soggy meat, and whatever 'herbs' Shiro added were definitely not improving the taste. But Lance could tell Shiro tried his best, and he was pretty hungry, so he gave a small smile.

“It tastes great, thank you.” He lied, taking another quick bite and holding his breath.

Shiro held a doubtful look but smiled, folding his hands together. "Thank you."

In the candlelight, Lance noticed a bright red burn scar on his wrist peeking out from his shirt sleeve. “Are you alright? Did you burn yourself?” Lance asked, gesturing at his hand.

“What? Oh no, I got it a while ago, in an accident.” Shiro said quickly, ducking his hands under the table. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Lance said, feeling awkward for pointing it out. He quickly changed the subject. “This is a pretty big castle, how long have you two lived here?”

“Around 90 years, more or less. They start to blur together after a while.”

“That many years? What do you do all the time?” Lance couldn't imagine staying that long in one place.

Shiro shrugged. “In the summer Keith and I usually go off and get supplies for the castle from the surrounding towns, but in the winter it gets pretty quiet. It will be nice to have someone else here this year."

"Yeah, it will be different." Lance agreed quietly, "It's funny, I haven't even traveled to another village before, much less stayed anywhere for the winter."

Shiro nodded in sympathy. "It's quite the change, but hopefully, it won't be for too long. During the day feel free to explore the castle, I’ll usually be upstairs out of the light if you need me. At night it gets dark but you'll be fine as long as you keep a candle with you. Keith is usually in the cellar if you want to talk to him.”

“I don't think Keith likes me very much,” Lance said, stirring the water soup around with his spoon.

Shiro didn't respond right away, pondering his words. “He’s slow to warm up to people. He has had a long past with Dero.”

Lance perked up, curious. “What happened?”

Shiro shook his head. “That’s not my story to tell. If you wanted to know, you would have to ask Keith, though he might not tell you either.” He stood up, “Keep the candle to get back to your room, there are some things I have to discuss with Keith. Have a good night Lance.”

He smiled and disappeared into the dark, leaving Lance alone staring into the candle flame.

What happened to Keith at Dero?

Lance ate the rest of the soup and rinsed out the bowl before going back to his room, the food making him feel sick as he drifted off into a restless sleep.

* * *

 

The next day Lance took Shiro's advice to explore. He needed to keep his mind off things, and if he was going to be here for a while he figured he might as well look around.

The castle was eerily silent as he wandered down a hallway on the main floor. With him, he carried a small candle to light the way since he found that most of the windows were blacked out with old tapestries and paintings. Lance stopped at one particularly striking one, holding up the flame to examine it closer.

Purple seemed to be the main color, with thin gold threads woven throughout. It depicted an old looking vampire in elegant purple robes, drinking blood from a golden chalice surrounded by a crowd of expressionless faces. The painting next to it depicted two young looking vampires, fighting each other with silver axes and spears dripping in blood. Another tapestry showed some sort of war scene between two different armies; dark blood was spattered throughout the dark battlefield, and broken bodies littered the ground. Lance frowned and continued on.

Right before the hallway turned there was a thick wooden door. Lance wiggled the handle and the door creaked open, revealing a small room filled with books.

A library.

He stared in awe; he never knew so many books could be in one place. In Dero, books were hard to come by. Traders didn't like to bring them because they usually got ruined by mold and rain, but there was no shortage of books here. The walls were lined with wooden bookcases stuffed to the brim with books. Two armchairs and a low wooden table covered in papers took up the middle of the room and sunlight streamed in from a window set high on the wall, filling the room with a warm glow.

Lance went to the table, carefully setting his candle down and sifting through the piles of paper and books. Not everyone in Dero was literate, but Lance was thankful his mama made sure all her kids could read and write at a basic level.

He picked up a thin book, feeling the smooth leather binding and brushing away the dust. Etched into the cover was some worn gold script.

“The story of Oera? No, the history of Dero.” He muttered, a shiver going through him. He had learned about Dero as a child, mostly about how Dero was founded.

It was a story told every year at The Festival of Rebirth, an annual festival celebrating Deros history and the coming of Spring. Lance smiled at the memories of people dressed in costumes and suited with homemade props. They would dance and tell of Dero with the flames of a huge bonfire roaring behind them, sending shadows flashing across their face and turning them into terrifying monsters.

The story began two hundred years ago when the ancient kingdom of Altea built Dero deep in the Vara forest as a small outpost town.

But there was a problem.

In the night bloodthirsty vampires would come out the forest and attack the village, destroying houses and drinking the blood of innocent people. The villagers tried to fend them off but they were too powerful and one night, a human child was taken from Dero.

A brave group of heroes was quickly gathered together and they set off to rescue the boy. They traversed the mountains, fighting off monsters and finally finding the boy deep in the heart of the forest, guarded by the fiercest vampires. A battle broke out between the two groups but in the end, the heroes won and brought the boy back home safely. Since then the vampires grew scared and rarely risked to attack Dero again.

Lance remembered the story with a certain fondness. As a child, he had always wished he could be one of the brave and dashing vampire hunters, protecting the village and saving the beautiful girl. But that day he saw Adam and discovered what vampires were really capable of, he wasn't so sure anymore.

He settled down into the chair and flipped the book open. The yellow pages were brittle under his fingers as he gently turned through them. Small black script with looping letters and long words filled the pages. At the top of the first chapter in neat print it read: _The Origins Of Dero._

Lance started to read.

_The kingdom of Altea wished to expand its borders out into the mountains and into the cursed woods, known as the Vara Forest. Legends often said it was cursed with evil magic and brought bad luck to all that entered._

_In early spring, ten of the kingdoms greatest explorers set off on a four-week exploration to map as much of the forest as they could. They were three weeks into their trip when they discovered a small town of what is now known as Dero. It was a town populated with the sickened. In one journal, an explorer described the creatures that lived there as:_

_‘Demons with dead, lifeless skin and evil eyes. They feast on the flesh of man and live in the dark. If God made Man, then the devil made these beings.”_

_Another journal reported:_

_'Around two hundred demons live here, but scattered among them are a few humans. They live like slaves and are fed off of like animals. I could not imagine a crueler existence.'_

_Repulsed by what they saw, the explorers called them vampires: cursed beings of damned souls. They reported back to the king, who ordered an immediate purge of all vampires and humans living there._

_A group of Knights and holy priests were sent on a crusade to go claim the village and rid the earth of the creatures. A violent war between the two parties broke out, known as the Fight for Dero. But the kingdom fought hard against the monsters, and as was God's will, the kingdom of Altea won and claimed the land for its own, using it for its abundant wood resources and remote location. The town was officially named Dero, in honor of one of the generals that died during the battle._

A faded picture on the right depicted the war over Dero.

It left little to the imagination.

In the background houses were drawn on fire and knights on horses fought what looked like twisted humans with red eyes with sharp claws and fangs. Bodies drenched in blood covered the dirt ground and people waved sticks with heads pierced through them.

Lance felt sick.

This wasn't the story he was told as a kid.

It wasn’t even remotely close.

He was told the village was founded by courageous explorers, people who fought bravely and with honor against the vampires that tried to take their land, not the other way around. There had to be some kind of mistake.

He flipped through the pages looking for answers but it was all the same. Gruesome pictures of knights killing vampires every way possible decorated the book, all telling of how the kingdom of Altea pushed on and on, claiming villages as their own and slaughtering hundreds of vampires under the pretense of freeing them from their sinful life. It wasn't just Dero that they took over, almost every village in the Vara forest had once been populated by vampires.

Lance shut the book and stared in shock, his mind reeling. He shuffled frantically through the papers on the table for more information but none of it was about Dero. He would ask Shiro, maybe he would know about it. But doubt crept into his mind. The book mentioned human slaves living among the vampires, what if that was what Keith and Shiro wanted him for? The idea filled Lance with fear, he had to get more information.

He tucked the book under his arm and brought it back up to his room, pouring over the words until his eyes hurt and the sun began to set.

It didn’t make sense, why would Dero lie?

That night he sat alone in the kitchen, Cooking two strips of meat for dinner. They sizzled and sputtered on the pan and Lance absentmindedly added some herbs, lost in thought. Why did Dero change the story? Is that why Keith hated Dero? Was the book even telling the truth? If that was the case and Shiro and Keith knew what the people of Dero did, why haven’t they killed him yet?

Thoughts swirled in his head and Lance could feel a headache coming on just thinking about it all.

He ate quickly and went to bed, dreaming of slaughtered vampires and blood rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Sooo this was definitely one of the hardest chapters for me to write tbh. I'm not that proud of it but I tried my best and I learned. There was a lot of dialogue and important details I didn't want to accidentally leave out, plus I really tried to get the characters right. But I finally did it! :) This chapter was originally going to be joined with another chapter but it got so long I decided to split them and just upload the next chapter in a week or so. 
> 
> Thank you for all your comments!! I really love all comments or constructive criticism, it makes me think about my writing and helps me improve! :) So don't be afraid to drop a comment if you liked it or maybe thought there was something I could improve on.  
> I hope you all have a very happy 2019 and thank you!! :)


	4. Chapter 4

On the fourth day, Lance discovered the door to the cellar.

Thoughts from yesterday still swirled in his head, and a small part of him hoped he would run into Shiro or Keith to ask them about Dero. Lance sighed, he didn’t know what to think about Keith. He didn’t know what to think about a lot of things if he was being honest, but what Keith said the night he woke up kept echoing in his head.

_“If we wanted to harm you, we would have done it by now.”_

He was right; killing him would be as easy, yet they kept him alive. Not only that, they gave him food and clothes, but why? The book did say there were humans living among the vampires in Dero, did they want him as some kind of slave? A chill went through Lance at the thought. If only the snow could melt sooner. He slowly descended the steep spiral staircase the cellar. His candle was the only source of light as he went deeper and deeper, the temperature steadily dropping. At the bottom, there was a labyrinth of hallways before him. The candlelight reflected off of slimy walls, and dirt covered the ground. Lance made a quick mental note not to get lost.

 _Thud_.

Lance jumped, his heartbeat picking up. The sound came from one of the hallways.

 _Thud_.

There it was again. The sound sent chills up Lance’s spine, and for a brief moment, he considered turning back. What if it was something dangerous? but in the end, curiosity won. With a deep breath, Lance cautiously walked down the hallway towards where he heard the mysterious sound.

 _Thud_. Pause. _Thud_. Pause. _Thud_.

Rusty chains hung from the walls and Lance peeked down one of the corridors, eyes widening at the sight of dingy prisoner cells lining the walls. Maybe coming down here wasn’t the best idea. As Lance got closer he could see a faint light up ahead, he shielded his candle flame with his hand, treading carefully and pressing himself closer to the wall. He crept back into a branching hallway and peered around the corner. Three candles sat on a small wooden table, illuminating a large empty room.

Lance’s breath caught in his throat, Keith was here.

He stood with his back was to the hall, completely still. Seven thin knives hung menacingly from a thick leather belt around his waist. Across the room, there was a small wooden target with three more knives sticking out of it. Lance sank back into the shadows, watching silently. Keith came to life, moving with the fluidity of water. In one smooth motion, his arm whipped up and forward, pulling a knife from his belt and throwing it end over end until it sunk into the middle of a wooden board with a loud thud, its handle quivering with the power.

It was uncanny to watch. Over and over Keith repeated the action, throwing the knives with deadly precision, sometimes at different lengths, different positions, but he never lost his smooth grace.

Lance didn’t like to admit it, but he was impressed.

Entranced by Keith, he unconsciously leaned closer, the still-burning candle tilting with him. Before Lance could even notice, hot wax flowed over the edge of the saucer, spilling right onto his hand. Lance gasped at the sudden sting and quickly blew out his candle, cursing himself silently as Keith whipped around at the noise.

“Shiro? Is that you?”

Lance stayed silent, hoping Keith would just forget it. Luck was not on his side. Keith’s footsteps grew louder, and he came around the corner, arriving face to face with Lance. A look of surprise flashed across his face, and the three burning candles illuminated his face with sharp shadows. “It’s you. What are you doing here?” He held suspicion in his voice. Lance thought fast.

“Hey Keith, Um, I was just, uh, lost down here, and was wandering around when I saw you, so I thought I would watch.”

“Just secretly watch me?” Keith repeated slowly, a frown on his face.

”It wasn't in a weird way,” Lance fumbled. His eyes landed on the knives hanging from Keith’s belt, and he gestured at the target, changing the subject. “You're good at throwing knives,”

Keith looked surprised at the compliment but crossed his arms. “Well, I don't perform for audiences,” He said, turning his back to Lance. “Go away.” Lance was about to fire back, but stopped, taking a deep breath and remembering what Shiro said the first night.

Ten years was a long time to not talk to anyone.

“Listen, Keith was it?” Keith paused, and Lance stepped closer. “I think we started off wrong. I didn’t really give you or Shiro a chance to explain yourselves, I-I was scared and everything was happening so fast. Could we maybe start over?” Lance stuck out his hand, giving a small smile, “Hi, I’m Lance Mcclain.”

Keith stared at the outstretched hand, silent. Doubt started to worm its way into Lance. _‘This was a dumb idea,’_ he thought, but it was too late to quit now. His hand wavered in place.

“Keith.” He replied, reaching out and hesitantly shaking lance’s hand.

Lance grinned, “Nice to meet you, Keith”

Keith still looked unsure. “I thought you didn't want anything to do with us.”

“I found this book about Dero in the library.”

Keith raised an eyebrow, “I'm guessing it was a little different from what you were taught in your village?”

Lance winced. “Is it really true? About the explorers and vampires?“

Keith looked down, silent, and Lance had his answer. He sighed, slumping against the stones. “I-I was taught it all backward, it was the vampires that tried to take the land, and the humans that defended it. I always thought that the explorers and vampire hunters were heroes. I looked up to them, everyone did.” He said weakly. If he couldn’t even trust his own town, who could he trust?

Keith absentmindedly twirled a blade between his fingers, watching the candlelight bounce off the sides. He spoke carefully like he was picking just the right words. “People are capable of horrible things when they're scared or don't understand something. I believe Dero is a result of a lot of fear and hatred packed into a very small place.”

Lance thought back to his childhood. The garlic on the windowsills, the crosses on every door in town, Lotor, the stories, the festivals. Everyone hated vampires, but if he thought about it, no one had even seen a vampire in years, so why were they still so scared?

“Is that why you called us a cult?” Lance asked.

“Yeah, that's one of the reasons.”

_One of the reasons_

“What else happened in Dero?” Lance pushed on. Some force inside him wanted to know; needed to know.

The knife stopped. “Some things you're better off not knowing. For your own sake.” He turned away from Lance and started to gather his knives from the block of wood, the sound of dripping water in the distance echoed in the silence. Keith didn’t elaborate any further, and Lance took that as his cue to leave.

“Thank you, Keith,” Lance said. He hastily left the cellar in the dark, somehow having more questions than before.

 

* * *

 

Lance spent the rest of the day searching through books about Dero, but they all told the same story. Dero was tainted with vampires, the brave explorers came and killed them, and took the land in honor of the kingdom Altea. Sometimes it went on after that, talking about politics and laws and other things Lance didn’t really care to sift through.

After looking through a few books, Lance noticed one detail seemed to be missing consistently from all of them. In the story reenacted at the festival of Rebirth, it always told of a boy, the boy taken by the vampires and then rescued. Surely that was important enough to mention at least once, right? But yet as Lance searched, not a single book even mentioned a child.

The chair groaned as Lance leaned back, deep in thought. “Why would Dero make that up? As a fear tactic?” He muttered.

He had taken to muttering a lot lately, and if he was back at home his mom might have scolded him for talking to himself, but here in the castle, no one seemed to care. With a sigh at the thought of his home, he went back to his search.

Lance stayed up into the small hours of the morning, reading every book he could find about Dero, absorbing the information and hoping one of them would help all this make sense. His eyes burned and begged for sleep and his candle burned low in its dish but at last, he was down to two books. One seemed to be a thin journal and the other a heavy leather-bound book with gold lettering. He picked up the thicker of the two, titled The Political Building of Dero. Lance’s expectations were low with this one, but with a sigh, he resigned himself and began to sift through the thick pages.

* * *

 

He couldn’t see.

Lance started awake, hearing a thud as the book in his lap landed on the floor. He must have fallen asleep. It was pitch black now, and he stumbled around, hands landing on the table and feeling for the candle stub. It had burned out. Perfect. Lance never did like the dark. He patted around the small room, gathering up the two books and carefully shuffling towards what he was pretty sure was the direction of the door. His eyes had started to adjust to seeing vaguely outlined shapes but it wasn't enough to make a difference.

After knocking over a pile of books and tripping over a chair, he finally managed to find the door and leave, but now the challenge was how to get to his room. He had always relied on sights to guide him before; a golden vase here, that weird blood tapestry there, but obviously, that wasn't going to work. He clenched the books tighter to his chest and started to walk down the corridor in what he thought what was the right direction, his hands tracing along the stone walls. He followed the walls around corners and over tapestries, too scared to leave the wall and risk running into something.

He walked for what felt like hours (but was only a few minutes) in the stifling darkness before Lance begrudgingly admitted defeat. He was lost. Hopelessly lost. He retraced his steps, feeling more on edge as the dark persisted. It crowded around him, pressing in on his chest and making it harder to breathe. The irrational part of his brain told him he would never be found, that something would jump out and drag him into the dark forever. He dismissed those thoughts quickly.

“Keith? Shiro?” He called hesitantly in a last-ditch effort, feeling like a total idiot. He should have gone back when he had the chance, “Shiro?” After a minute of silence Lace gave up and picked up the pace, wishing that somehow he would stumble into the entrance hall.

Something landed on his arm behind him and Lance shouted, spinning around and falling on his ass, looking around frantically. His books clattered to the ground.

“Hey, it’s me, Keith. Calm down.”

“Oh, Keith! Hey, sorry.” Lance's cheeks burned and he stumbled up, seeing the dim glow of Keith’s eyes.

“What the hell are you doing walking around in the dark in the middle of the night?”

Lance really wished he had gone back sooner. “My candle burned out when I was in the library, and I can’t see in the dark.” He smiled awkwardly, “Could you help me find my room please?”

“Your really not good at directions are you?” He sounded amused. 

“What do you mean by that?” Lance narrowed his eyes.

“The woods, the cellar, and now here, you get lost a lot.”

Lance snorted. I have a great sense of direction. I just don’t have weird glowing night vision eyes.” He couldn’t help but smile. Maybe Keith was warming up to him. He remembered the books. “Oh, hey, I dropped some books can you help-”

“Where did you find this?” Keith cut him off.

“What?” Lance squinted and saw Keith holding the thin journal. “Oh, I found it in the library. I was hoping it could tell me more about Dero.” He reached to take it but Keith held it back.

“It’s not about Dero. You can’t read it.”

“Wait, what do you mean I can’t read it? It’s about my town.”

Keith tucked it away in his jacket. “Trust me, Lance. It’s not about anything important.” He gave Lance the other book. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

Lance didn’t move, sounding exasperated, “How am I supposed to trust you when you won't tell me anything?”

“It's none of your business, that’s why. Please Lance, just leave it. You can read anything else you want.” He sounded tired, and he started off down the hallway.

Lance fumed but hurried to catch up, not wanting to be left in the dark again. Curiosity burned in his mind, but if Keith didn’t want to tell him, he wouldn’t. The walk to his room was a long and silent one; turns out Lance had been going in the opposite direction, but finally, Keith stopped outside Lance’s door, two purple dots among the sea of black.

“This is it. Be careful next time.”

“Thank you,” Lance said. Before Keith could vanish again he followed up, “Are you going to be downstairs again?”

“Yes, I’m usually down there.”

Lance smiled,” I'll keep that in mind.” He shut the door and lit a candle, flopping down on the bed and flipping through the history book. As expected, nothing. He tossed the book to the ground. He wanted the journal, why wouldn’t Keith let him read it? It must have been important, but Lance couldn't think of what made it different from every other book. With a vow to talk to Keith tomorrow about it, Lance drifted off into another uneasy sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was Definitely longer than a week. Writers' block, school, sports, and work all collectively came together to start beating me up, so I thank you all for being patient! :) 
> 
> I edit this all myself, and sometimes I miss things, so if you see a mistake feel free to call me out so I can fix it. I love comments and constructive criticism as it helps me improve as a writer. So don't be afraid to drop a comment if you liked or hated something. Thank you!! :) 
> 
> (Also shoutout to my friend who found out about this while searching on my phone. lmao yea I really like vampires.)


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